After nearly two months, here's the chapter about the Greens' side of the Dance in its first days. I have also added some new lines in my previous chapter regarding Dreamfyre. I forgot to mention her, and I apologize. But enough talk. Enjoy the chapter. :)
Author's Note: Profane language and incestuous suggestive themes.
Twos Days after the Executions
King Jaehaerys II and Prince Aemond Targaryen watched the passing ocean waves with weary indifference from the bow of the Lady Patricia as she made her way up the Redwyne Straits to Oldtown. To think that just twelve days ago Jaehaerys had flown over the Straits atop the back of Shrykos. But Shrykos was dead now. The injuries the she-dragon had sustained from Arrax's teeth, claws, and horns proved too much for her, and Shrykos succumbed to them only yesterday afternoon. Jaehaerys wept bitterly when Shrykos passed away, but at the same time he was glad that his beloved dragon was finally free of the agonizing pain she had been suffering from for eleven long days since the Battle of the Arbor.
Shrykos's body remained at the Arbor where the Redwyne's were instructed to sever her head and strip it of flesh and viscera before sending it to Oldtown with the hope of hanging Shrykos's head up in the Red Keep's great hall at a later date (the same applied to Arrax's corpse, which had washed ashore a few days after the battle). The rest of their bones would be sent for later for interment. As if losing his dragon wasn't bad enough, Jaehaerys received word from Oldtown that his mother had been executed at King's Landing. The heartbroken Jaehaerys spent the rest of that miserable day in solitude drowning his sorrows in wine and the pleasures of the flesh with one of the Redwyne's serving girls. Arbor gold and bedding a pretty maid were soothing enough balms for Jaehaerys, but only for the night, and Jaehaerys was hungover when he woke up the following morning.
The king was supposed to sail back to Oldtown yesterday, but his hangover made him too ill to travel. Thank the Seven, Jaehaerys II was feeling better now, and he did not feel the least bit nauseous as Lady Patricia rode the waves of the Redwyne Straits. The king and his uncle were not the only important passengers that the ship was carrying. The captive and partially blind Prince Lucerys Velaryon and the remains of his slain half-brother, Admiral Alyn Velaryon, were also aboard the Lady Patricia. Luke was being held in the ship's brig where his needs were looked after by the serving girl Jaehaerys had slept with; Alyn's ossuary was stored in the ship's cargo hold.
Boarding the ship earlier that morning was the first time Jaehaerys had seen his half-cousin since the aftermath of the Battle of the Arbor when their Uncle Aemond cut out Luke's right eye. Lucerys had been imprisoned at Stone Cask until today, spending most of his incarceration despondent with sorrow and under the haze of the sweetwine provided to him by Maester Kevan. Captor and captive's eyes met when the latter was walking up the gangplank before Lady Patricia departed for Oldtown. Jaehaerys's purple eyes met the brown iris of Luke's remaining eye, an eye that glared back at his half-cousin with a fiery hatred that was forever burned into the king's memory. "Keep walking, bastard," Aemond had said; he had gleefully taken it upon himself to humiliate Lucerys by leading him up the gangplank with a chain as if he were a slave bound for Slaver's Bay.
Laughter rang out, but Jaehaerys did not find his uncle's antics to be funny even though he didn't admonish Aemond for what he had done. Prince Aemond was an invaluable asset, and Jaehaerys did not want to alienate his uncle; he would let Aemond do as he pleased. Besides, there were far more pressing matters to attend to than Aemond's behavior. There was a rebellion to win, a search for more dragonriders, and a small council and Kingsguard to assemble. And there was one dragonrider that Jaehaerys was hellbent on adding to his ranks: his younger brother Maelor and his dragon, Meteor.
Aemond had counseled his nephew on how to get Maelor to become a turncloak, and the plan would be enacted once the Greens were back in Oldtown. It was a little blusterier today than it was on the Day of Blood when the Greens sailed for the Arbor, and the wind made the sea choppy, but the Hightower Fleet was able to handle the waves with ease. The fleet arrived at Oldtown in roughly two and a half hours. King Jaehaerys and his men received a muted welcome when they disembarked at the city docks. People lined the streets to watch the wheelhouses carrying the king and his kinsmen to the Highotwer traverse the cobbled streets, war and death being the foremost subjects on their minds instead of cheering or throwing flowers to their false king.
The reception at Battle Isle was no less grim. Princes Daeron and Maelor Targaryen and the captive Prince Joffrey Velaryon, and Lords Lyonel and Willem Hightower, Maester Ulrich, Alys Rivers, and noblemen from Houses Ashford, Bulwer, Costayne, and Florent were all there to greet the king when he arrived. Having written about his consultation with Aemond, Jaehaerys was pleased to see that a chopping block had been brought to the courtyard when he exited the wheelhouse. No one was paying any attention to the block now though. Jaehaerys got a good look at his younger brother.
Maelor looked as if he had taken a bath not too long ago: his skin was pink and clean, and his hair was partially damp. Jaehaerys had not seen Maelor when he was imprisoned, but no doubt he looked like an unwashed beggar after spending time first in the oubliette and then in a dungeon. The king's brother was wearing all black in mourning of their mother, and Maelor's face was a mixture of anger and grief. Daeron was also dressed in black, and several of the assembled Greens were wearing black armbands to display their sorrow over Helaena's death just like they did for Dowager Queen Alicent after her murder. Brotherly love surged within Jaehaerys, and for a moment he wasn't a rebel king but a grieving son who wanted to mourn with his little brother over their beloved mother's death, and he opened his arms to Maelor.
Seething as Maelor was over what Jaehaerys and their kinsmen had done, he still loved his brother, and he walked over to embrace him. The embrace was brief, as it is with men, the two brothers hugging tightly for a moment and patting each other's backs in a consoling manner before releasing themselves. Jaehaerys and Maelor said nothing, their sorrowful expressions spoke for them. Everyone gathered in the courtyard shared the royal brothers' sad countenances. Prince Daeron approached his eldest nephew, who turned to embrace him.
"I am so sorry about your mother, Jaehaerys. Take some comfort in knowing that she is with your father, son, my Valarr, and grandparents at the Father's golden hall in the seven heavens."
Jaehaerys nodded at his uncle's words.
"Thank you, uncle. I am sorry that you have lost a sister. Not only that, but you and your family have my condolences for Valarr. He was such a kind and gentle soul..."
The corners of Daeron's lips rose slightly to form a sad smile for a moment before falling with his heart. He nodded softly in gratitude for Jaehaerys's words. Grief kept Daeron from replying to his nephew. Jaehaerys and Maelor both looked upon their uncle with eyes brimming with empathy. Losing a dearly loved sister was one thing, losing a child was another.
Both brothers had grieved the death of their youngest cousin when they heard how he had been murdered by Lord Alan Beesbury, and neither of them could imagine the pain that was tearing at the hearts of Valarr's parents and surviving siblings. Maelor knew more of the grief that was experienced by his Uncle Daeron and his family thanks to the information shared to him by his gaolers during his imprisonment. He had heard how Princess Vaella had somehow sensed her twin brother's death while she was in the Hightower's sept praying with her mother and kinswomen. The young girl had clutched her throat as if it were hurting and she fell to the floor where she started to sob and wail uncontrollably. "He's gone! He's gone!" Vaella had shrieked as her family members and the clergy surrounded her, her hysteria frightening them all to the marrow.
Poor Bethany, call it a mother's intuition, or perhaps she caught her daughter's hysteria, cradled Vaella in her arms and began wailing along with her. It was a terrible scene to witness and listen to. Mother and daughter were taken to their rooms where they were given sweetmilk to calm them, and Bethany, who was nearly a month pregnant, was placed on bedrest by Maester Ulrich to reduce the risk of her miscarrying. Bethany and Vaella were quiet and numb when the official death notice for Prince Valarr Targaryen arrived later that day, though there was some irritation from Bethany when she learned that her youngest son was cremated at Honeyholt. Daeron himself explained his reasoning for cremating Valarr at Honeyholt rather than at Oldtown to his bedridden and heartbroken pregnant wife when he returned to Oldtown with their son's ashes a few days later.
Without giving too many details, Daeron told the grieving Bethany that their son was "not what he was" before his death. It was better to remember Valarr as he was before he was taken away and killed: a sweet and loving boy with warm, pink skin and silver-gold hair that gleamed in the sun, and big eyes as purple as wine. Daeron tried his best to remember his son that way, but the horrible final images he had of Valarr always came back to him like a recurring pain. A broken body with a slashed throat lying in a pool of black blood. A pale corpse with a crudely sewn throat lying atop a pyre that was burned to ash by Tessarion's cobalt flames.
Blue firelight flickered off the faces of Daeron, Prince Joffrey, and some of the Green soldiers who had gathered for his youngest son's cremation. It was difficult to watch Valarr burn, but his father and half-cousin never averted their gaze from the fire as it consumed his body. Joff even helped Daeron to gather Valarr's cremains into pouch after the fire had subsided. But the camaraderie between half-uncle and half-nephew ended not long after the funeral, and Joff now stood in the Hightower's courtyard wearing rags and manacles and fetters. Just like his half-cousins, Joff was now reunited with his brother Luke, who had arrived in a wheelhouse after Jaehaerys II and Aemond, but the two could not embrace and commiserate over their dead dragons and perilous situation.
Joff was shocked by the state his older brother was in. Bandages were wrapped around the right side of Luke's face and around his left arm where it had been slashed by a fauchard at Stone Cask. Luke looked thinner and he was pallid and unwashed, resembling more like a fresh corpse that was just delivered to the silent sisters than the princely brother Joff had last seen in the Crownlands over a moon's turn ago. And Lucerys shambled through the courtyard like one of the undead with two guards escorting him. Joff and Luke's eyes met, and the two brothers exchanged looks of disappointment and bittersweet relief over seeing each other alive.
Lucerys's arrival was Jaehaerys's cue to initiate his plan for Maelor.
"Maelor," began the pretender in a serious tone when he faced his brother again, "I have something important to share with you. There is another reason why you were summoned here besides greeting Uncle Aemond and I upon our return from the Arbor." The king's brother frowned as he listened to Jaehaerys's words without an inkling as to where this conversation was headed. Dread flickered in Maelor's heart as Jaehaerys carried on. "The Greens are in need of dragonriders, Maelor.
My dear Shrykos is no longer with us, and that leaves the Greens with only a paltry four dragons at our disposal while the Blacks have far more. Aegon is my only trueborn heir and I have no intention of risking his life or his mother's on the field of battle atop the backs of Sunfyre and Morghul. That only leaves the Blue Queen and Seasmoke as our only available dragons..."
Maelor's flickering dread had grown to a sizeable flame, and it soon dawned on him what Jaehaerys was going to ask him. His answer was immediate before Jaehaerys had even gotten to the point.
"No. No, I will not, Jaehaerys! No!"
Jaehaerys, who had been cut off by Maelor just as he was about to open his mouth again, gaped at his little brother. Aemond and Daeron exchanged concerned looks and they parted their lips in disbelief. Lucerys and Joffrey's expressions mirrored their half-uncles. Everyone who was gathered in the yard were exchanging looks and whispering into one another's ear. Jaehaerys's look of shock soon melted into one of smoldering fury.
"You did not let me finish, Maelor..."
"You don't have to, Jaehaerys," snapped Maelor. His words were just as furious as Jaehaerys's countenance was. "I know what you want. You want me to pledge myself and Meteor to your cause. I won't. Rhaenyra is my aunt, my wife's mother, and my children's grandmother.
I cannot turn my back on her."
"And mother was Visenya's aunt and the grandmother of your children as well, Maelor." Jaehaerys's voice was a low, frightening growl that promised danger to anyone who pushed him further. "Mother and Rhaenyra were half-sisters, but that did not keep our "dear aunt" from having mother executed. Whatever modicum of respect I had left for Rhaenyra died two days ago with mother, Maelor. She does not deserve our loyalty."
Maelor's face contorted with suppressed fury.
"And mother would not have been executed if it hadn't been for you, Jaehaerys!"
Purple rage flashed in Jaehaerys's eyes, and the king lunged for his brother only to be stopped by Aemond. Daeron stepped in to keep Maelor from doing anything similar.
"Stop! Both of you!" Aemond growled. He faced Jaehaerys. "You are a king, Jaehaerys. Show more self-restraint." Aemond then shot a scornful glare at Maelor. "And you mind your words, Maelor. If you want to blame someone for your mother's death, blame me, the kinslayer, not your brother."
Maester Ulrich, who was standing by Lord Hightower, bowed his head in sorrow. His late twin brother Urban shared some of the blame as well. If it weren't for Urban sharing his suspicions that the Dragon Queen had poisoned her own half-grandnephew, Prince Gaemon the Blind, then perhaps the tensions between the Blacks and Greens would not have escalated into rebellion. Ulrich felt guilty for thinking that way about his deceased twin, and he tried to "remedy" it with the thought that Urban's suspicions were right, and that Rhaenyra had him killed to keep him quiet. "Kinslaying, hypocritical bitch," Ulrich thought.
As Ulrich tried to make himself feel better, Aemond whispered into his oldest nephew's ear. "Time to bring the block into play, Jaehaerys." The king nodded and turned his attention back to Maelor. The brothers fixed each other with disquieting glares and Jaehaerys's voice was still edgy and dangerous when he spoke.
"Well, little brother, since you do not have the courtesy to let me at least cajole you into joining my side, I am afraid that I must take drastic measures for you to see sense." Jaehaerys gestured towards the chopping block. All eyes followed the false king's hand, and the block's presence in the courtyard was finally noticed. Jaehaerys's eyes meanwhile were still firmly locked onto his brother. He tried one last-ditch attempt to "win" Maelor over.
"Swear fealty to me now, Maelor, and Lucerys and Joffrey will not have to kneel before that block. If you do not swear fealty to me, then Lucerys and Joffrey will meet their ends by the headsman's axe. Their fates are in your hands, Maelor. What do you say?"
Lucerys and Joffrey stiffened and glanced anxiously at each other. Maelor's body tensed as well, but his stubbornness remained steadfast, a trait inherited from his long dead grandfather the Young King.
"You're bluffing, Jaehaerys. You don't have the backbone to mete out harm against our kinsmen."
Jaehaerys inhaled deeply and slowly, his nostrils flaring wide like a bull's when he exhaled. He wanted to remind Maelor yet again of their mother's fate but felt that it would be a waste of breath. But a comeback did materialize within the king's mind, and Jaehaerys smiled softly and smugly as he spoke.
"Who said I would be the one meting out harm, Maelor?" Jaehaerys then raised his voice and called for an axe to be brought. The Hightower's headsman emerged from the crowd brandishing the fearsome tool of his trade. Luke, Joff, and Maelor blanched at the sight of the man as he approached the block. "Uncle Aemond," spoke Jaehaerys, "would you like to do the honors?"
"With pleasure, nephew." Aemond swiveled his one-eyed gaze in the direction of his archnemesis, Luke. A chilling smile formed on Aemond's face. "And I know who I want to take the axe to first." The prince snapped his fingers at the guards who had accompanied Luke. "Bring him to the block."
The guards grabbed Lucerys and proceeded to all but drag him over to the block as Luke put up a hell of a struggle.
"Grab his left arm where the bandages are." The command came from Aemond who was now standing in front of the block on its left with the axe in his hands. "The bastard's wound has been hurting him lately."
The guard on Luke's left took Aemond's suggestion and he grabbed the prince's left forearm. He did not have to squeeze too hard. Lucerys grit his teeth and hissed in pain from the guard's touch. He stumbled, and the guards were able to drag the prince a little easier to the block.
"Going to cry for your mother, Little Luke Strong?" taunted Aemond as he watched his half-nephew stumble and grimace with pain. He was enjoying every minute of Luke's pain just like he did when he cut the bastard's eye out to avenge his own.
"Luke! Luke!" Joff shouted in fear for his older brother. Guards had to hold the prince back to keep him from running after Lucerys. "Stop hurting him! Please!"
Maelor stood stock-still in horror as everything unfolded before his very eyes. He wanted to believe with all his heart that Jaehaerys was bluffing and that he was reinforcing his bluff with histrionics but seeing their uncle wielding the headsman's axe made Maelor second guess himself. Aemond had cut out Luke's eye out of revenge for something that occurred thirty years ago when they were boys. Coupled with the fact that Aemond had killed Jacaerys, what's to stop him from killing another half-nephew in cold blood? Maelor's panic reached a fever-pitch when he saw Luke getting manhandled onto the block.
"May you rot in the seven hells, Aemond!" exclaimed Lucerys as he was being held down.
"You can tell that to the Lord of the Seven Hells himself, nephew," was Aemond's reply. He then glanced up and pointed at Maelor. "Or your cousin here can bend the knee to his brother so that you and Joff can both keep your heads."
Maelor's breathing grew heavier as the weight of the situation grew heavier and more foreboding. And yet Maelor could not say anything. He was torn. Remain loyal to the Blacks but live with the pain of seeing his half-cousins getting executed? Bend the knee to Jaehaerys but live with the guilt of betraying his wife's family?
Seeing his nephew's inaction spurred Aemond to speed up Maelor's decision making process. He positioned his hands on the axe's shaft and lifted it up over his head. This sight finally pushed Maelor over the edge, and he cried out vehemently, "No! Don't! I will do it! I submit!"
Aemond paused and lowered the axe. Lucerys opened his eye and stared at the axe blade that was now resting on the ground that would have cut off his head; the battered and overwhelmed prince could not help but weep at the sight. Joffrey's eyes were glistening. He wept both out of relief that his older brother's life had been spared and over the fact that Maelor was (reluctantly) turning against the Blacks. Maelor himself had tears in his eyes, and he balled his hands into fists as if that could dam the torrent of guilt that was coursing through him.
King Jaehaerys, whose anger subsided when he saw the state Maelor was in, approached his little brother. Placing a brotherly hand on Maelor's shoulder, Jaehaerys cajoled an oath out of him.
"You submit to my authority as both your brother and your king?" Maelor nodded mutely in response. Jaehaerys leaned his head forward to whisper into Maelor's ear. "I know you are hurting, Maelor, but please get on one knee so that everyone can see. It will be quick, I promise you."
Maelor nodded wordlessly again, and he did as he was told. Slowly did Prince Maelor kneel before his brother and the gathered crowd. Joffrey looked away in shame as did Lucerys, who was helped up from the block to witness this brother-in-law's betrayal. Everyone else was stone-faced, a mixture of satisfaction and sadness dancing in their eyes. Maelor's knee hitting the ground was akin to a stamp being pressed into a glob of wax to imprint a seal, and he felt in that moment that he would never be able to stand up again.
"Prince Maelor of House Targaryen," began Jaehaerys II in a formal tone, "do you solemnly swear your sword and your dragon to me? To mine and my son's claim to the Iron Throne?"
"Yes." Maelor uttered this one word in a distant, monotonous voice. The scene reminded Aemond and Daeron of that fateful morning back in 129 AC when their late elder brother knelt before the Iron Throne where their triumphant bastard of an uncle demanded Aegon to renounce his claim in the name of Rhaenyra. But whereas that scene was bitter and aroused hatefulness against the Blacks in Aemond and Daeron's hearts, this near identical scene aroused feelings of pity and sadness within the two men. Flat and depressed as Maelor sounded, a spark of bravery burned inside him, and he looked Jaehaerys in the eye and made one demand of him.
"And in return, King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, the Second of His Name, my older brother, do you swear to do no harm against my wife? I know that you will never lift a finger in harm against my daughter and unborn son since they are kin to you, but Visenya will never turn against her beloved mother. Can you promise me that she will not be harmed?"
Jaehaerys nodded solemnly.
"You have my word as both your brother and your king, Maelor. Rhaenys and your son will always be treated well as befits the niece and nephew of a king but remember that Visenya's wellbeing will only be safeguarded if you remain loyal to me. Betray me, and I will have Lucerys, Joffrey, and Visenya executed. If Visenya is still pregnant in the event you betray me, Maelor, her life will be spared until after she gives birth. Do you understand me?"
Maelor nodded. "Yes."
"Good. Now stand."
Jaehaerys helped Maelor to stand, and the matter was done. The Greens had a new dragonrider among their ranks. With other pressing matters needed to be seen to, the crowd in the courtyard dispersed. Lucerys and Joffrey were taken to the dungeons, and their half-cousin and his entourage proceeded to the high hall so Jaehaerys could hold court for the first time and focus on the tasks at hand, those tasks being the establishment of both a small council and Kingsguard, and the naming of an heir. Prince Aegon and Princess Aeva were waiting for their father in the high hall with their late great-grandmother's former maid, Petra, and their granduncle Aemond's wife, Lady Daenaera Velaryon, and their son, Baelon; the absence of Queen Jaehaera irked her twin brother-husband even as he hugged his children.
"Where is my wife, Petra?" Jaehaerys had asked after embracing Aegon and Aeva. Petra's expression was sad when she explained the reason behind the queen's absence.
"Queen Jaehaera hasn't been faring well, I'm afraid, your majesty. She hasn't left her room in two days since we learned of your mother's death, Seven rest her soul. Jaehaera was still reeling from her friend's death back in the capital when the death notice for Princess Helaena arrived..."
The king's initial irritation softened when he heard Petra's explanation. Jaehaerys had heard the news of Thea's murder within a few days after the Battle of the Arbor, and it came as an awful shock to him. Thea had been a part of Jaehaerys and his younger siblings' lives for over twenty years along with Myrine. Jaehaerys remembered the halcyon days of his boyhood when Thea joined him and his siblings and cousins and Myrine in snowball fights or building snowmen during winter, playing monsters-and-maidens and rats and cats, or flying in the sky on their dragons. Those memories were bittersweet now, and the loss of the popular and adored Thea, who was an innocent victim of his scheming, stung the king.
"Now why are you acting like that?"
The voice belonged to Aemond. Jaehaerys looked to his left and saw his uncle engaged in a tense exchange with his wife. Aemond was holding Baelon in his left arm and his right hand was grasping Daenaera's shoulder. Lady Velaryon was avoiding eye contact with her husband, and she looked like she didn't even want to be in the same room as him. No doubt Daenaera was furious with Aemond over him cutting out her foster father's eye, and Jaehaerys did not at all blame her for it.
"Answer me."
Aemond squeezed his wife's shoulder hard enough to make her wince. Daenaera's eyes met Jaehaerys's, and her expression made Aemond realize that they were being watched. The prince released his wife and put his son back down on the floor. Hostile as he was towards Daenaera, Aemond tousled Baelon's hair and told him to be a good boy. Realizing that it was time to hold court, Jaehaerys made his way to the Hightower throne and begin his first court session.
From the seat of Lord Hightower, Jaehaerys performed his first official acts as king. Creating the Green small council came first. The first position to be filled was the Hand of the King. Prince Daeron Targaryen was chosen by his nephew to become his Hand, and Jaehaerys pinned a magnificent silver and emerald brooch on Daeron's breast in lieu of the Hand's traditional badge of office. Choosing Daeron was a wise choice thanks to his cleverness and intelligence, whereas his older brother Aemond, while intelligent in his own right, was hot-tempered and better suited for combat than governance.
Ser Gwayne Hightower, Jaehaerys's granduncle, was named to the position of Master of Laws. At eight and fifty years of age, Gwayne saw this appointment as being his last, and he hoped to hold this office until either old age forced him to retire or if the Stranger came for him. Ser Myles Hightower, the bereaved father of the late Ser Cyril Hightower, who had fallen in battle during the Siege Honeyholt, replaced Gwayne as the Lord Commander of the Oldtown City Watch. Hopefully patrolling the streets and wynds of Oldtown could help distract Myles from the grief of losing his son. Whereas Daeron and Gwayne were kin by blood to Jaehaerys the Pretender, the next incumbents were not.
Ser Edmund Naeryon, a longtime retainer for the Green Targaryen's, was named as Jaehaerys II's Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. In light of Queen Jaehaera's emotional breakdown, Alys Rivers, Prince Aemond's paramour of twenty-one years, was appointed as the Mistress of Whisperers, the first to be named in nearly a hundred and ten years since the appointment of Queen Tyanna of the Tower, the fearsome and mysterious third wife of King Maegor the Cruel, in 42 AC. Maester Ulrich was announced by a representative of the Conclave to have been elected by the Archmaesters to become Jaehaerys II's Grand Maester. This announcement was greeted by whisperings of how the Conclave must have been bribed by the Hightower's to elect a Grand Maester on such short notice let alone pick the maester who served the head of the family at that. Bribe or no bribe, Ulrich's appointment was not (openly) questioned, and he assumed his new title gratefully.
Augustus Redwyne, the Lord of the Arbor and brother-in-law of the Voice of Oldtown, was rewarded for his part in helping to conceal Prince Aemond and orchestrating the sneak attack on the Blacks at the Arbor by being named as the Master of Ships. Lord Osmund Costayne, the heir to Three Towers and the brother-in-law of Ser Reginald Hightower, was appointed as the Master of Coin. Osmund was gifted in mathematics, and he was House Costayne's treasurer and paymaster. With the appointment of Osmund Costayne the Green small council was completed. Applause rang out in the high hall. Now it was time to form the Kingsguard. Lord Commander Naeryon stood by to the king's left – Daeron stood on Jaehaerys's right – and both men gave the king input as to who should be selected to join rebel Kingsguard. The lords in the room came forward and Jaehaerys made his selections.
One of the uncles of Lord Lyonel Tyrell offered his son, Ser Jon Tyrell, and recommended Ser Steffon Vyrwel, one of Highgarden's household knights, and both men were chosen. Ser Rufus Redwyne, a younger son of the Master of Ships, was picked to join the Kingsguard. Daeron recommended Ser Danwell Bulwer to the Kingsguard because of the valor he displayed during the Siege of Honeyholt. Ser Bulwer was also the younger brother of the Lord of Blackcrown, and both men were the first cousins once removed of Lord Hightower. Edmund suggested the last two knights: Ser Franklyn Florent, the youngest son of Lord Aldus Florent and his late second wife, and Ser Abel Fossoway, a nephew of Owen Fossoway, the Lord of Cider Hall.
When all the knights had been chosen, the Kingsguard knelt before Jaehaerys and swore vows of undying loyalty to him and his family. Jaehaerys felt more like a king now that he had a small council and Kingsguard but he knew that his kingship would remain incomplete without the Iron Throne. That glorious prize. No, not a prize, a glorious birthright. A birthright that should have been passed down from father to son.
The newly formed Kingsguard finished reciting their vows and Jaehaerys blessed them. Another round of applause filled the high hall again at the conclusion of the oath-taking. Prince Aegon's investiture was the final event of the court session. Commanding his son to kneel before him, Jaehaerys tapped Aegon's shoulders thrice on each side with Blackfyre, and he crowned him with a slender silver crown studded with pearls that was once worn by the Hightower princes of old. Aegon's investiture was sealed with an impromptu fatherly kiss on the forehead by the king, and he, the oldest living son of Jaehaerys II, became the Prince of Dragonstone less than a month before his tenth nameday.
Applause filled the high hall for the last time that day at the conclusion of Aegon's investiture, and court was adjourned. The first Green small council meeting was next, and it was to be held in Lord Hightower's solar, and Jaehaerys bid his children farewell before heading off for the solar with his Kingsguard and small councilmen tailing after him. Military updates and strategies were the first topics to be discussed in the solar.
"Lord Lyonel," spoke Jaehaerys II, "have you heard of any word about my cousin Lydus?"
Lord Hightower nodded. "Yes. I received word from Lord Westbrook three days ago that Lydus, Seasmoke, Lords Tyrell and Peake and their host had just passed through his village and crossed over from his demesne into the Tarly's. They should be within walking distance of Horn Hill by midday tomorrow."
Aemond clenched his hands into fists on the table and he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Alys rested a comforting hand on her lover's shoulder. Lydus, their son, Aemond's firstborn, was going into battle, his first. Aemond's face was twisted into an anxious scowl as he worried over his oldest boy. Alys's expression was hard to read, but no doubt it belied her motherly concern for Lydus's wellbeing.
Daeron balled his hands into fists too and bowed his head. His two remaining sons and granddaughter were all being held captive at Horn Hill. The prince's heart hammered at the thought of Lord Tarly repeating what his late child-murdering bastard of a father-in-law had done at Honeyholt on Valerion, Aeryn, or little Daena. Valarr's death had ripped a colossal hole in the hearts of his family members, a hole that would never be filled. The concerns of the three parents seemed to radiate from them like heat from a great fire for everyone's eyes seemed to fall on Aemond, Alys, and Daeron.
Lord Hightower gave his brother-in-law an empathetic look, for he knew what it was like to lose a child, and his grief over his nephew's death was great. Jaehaerys's heart went out to his kinsmen once more, but there was another soul at Horn Hill he was concerned for. Macetail. The pretender was desperate to claim another dragon, and he hoped and prayed that Macetail would be unharmed during the battle so that he could become Jaehaerys's second mount. Thinking of Macetail brought the king's attention to another dragon - Moondancer.
"Has there been any word from Highgarden regarding Baela and the Rowan's?"
Lyonel shook his head. "Still raising their host, my lord. Lady Mary wrote to me telling me that she is preparing Highgarden for battle. Conscripting more men, forging more weapons and armor, strengthening the castle's defenses. House Tyrell is doing everything they can to be ready for when Baela and her dragon and host arrive."
"With my nephew the king's leave, I will confront Baela at Highgarden." It was Daeron who had spoken up. "Highgarden may seem impregnable, but I believe it was sacked before. Isn't that right, Maester Thaleus?"
The Grand Maester nodded.
"Yes, my lord. Highgarden was sacked by Dornishmen during the reign of King Mern X Gardner."
"Thank you, and Highgarden has never faced a dragon before either." Daeron continued. "Moondancer can lay waste to the castle while the Rowan host does battle outside her walls. My daughter is there, and I want to protect both her and my unborn grandchild. I will give Baela fire and blood for every spark and drop she will make against the Tyrell's."
Jaehaerys was nodding as he listened to his uncle and Hand of the King. "And you have my leave, uncle, to engage the enemy at Highgarden. Take your host there as well. You will need all the help you can get."
Daeron nodded. "Thank you, my king."
Military updates finished – on to the next subject. The Dragon Queen was busy raising her host, so there was still some time for the Greens to prepare. Jaehaerys was aware that some of the dragons in the Blacks arsenal could not be ridden for various reasons such as illness, pregnancy, frailty, and in his cousin Aegon's case, being too grief-stricken, and this knowledge brought the king some comfort. A map of Westeros and the Reach were rolled out on the table and the Greens hovered over it to plot and strategize. Consolidating allegiances with the houses declaring for King Jaehaerys II, sending out more conscription notices, strengthening the defenses of the Rose and Ocean Roads, ordering the construction of more warships at the Arbor, Shield Islands, and port towns along the Reach's coastline and even Fair Isle were all discussed.
The topic of ships led to Lord Augustus bringing up the Ironborn, the ancient bane of the western coast of Westeros. "If we send too many ships out to do battle with the royal fleet then the Red Kraken will see that as an opportunity to attack the Reach." Augustus's concern was addressed by Prince Daeron.
"We have dragons, Lord Redwyne. Dalton Greyjoy may be a bloodthirsty savage, but he is also shrewd. He won't dare to attack the Reach if dragons are there even if they aren't near the coast. But if the Red Kraken does get ahead of himself, send me, Maelor, or Lydus a raven and we will fly over and burn the Ironbron back to the sea from whence they came."
"Or we could use Dalton's bloodlust to our advantage, Daeron." The speaker was the prince's Uncle Gwayne, the Master of Laws. "We could offer Dalton wealth and offices if he raided the Riverlands and Westerlands to keep them busy and halter Queen Rhaenyra's war effort."
"But what's to keep those saltwater guzzling bastards from turning on us?" countered Augustus. "Trusting an Ironborn to keep their word is as foolish as leaving a birdcage open when the cat's around."
"Not if there is someone watching the cat, my lord."
It was Lord Commander Edmund Naeryon who had spoken. Everyone's eyes moved to look at him.
"What do you mean by that, Ser Naeryon?" Augustus asked.
"What I mean, Lord Redwyne, is that we can send a dragonrider over to the Iron Islands to negotiate with the Red Kraken and make sure he stays loyal to his side of the deal if he agrees to the king's offer. If not, then that dragon can burn the Iron Fleet to the keel to curb any reaving ambitions Dalton may have towards us."
"I like your thinking, Edmund," King Jaehaerys said. "Maelor can go to the Iron Islands accompanied by you and two Kingsguard knights. Maelor?" All eyes now fell on Prince Maelor, who had been in the background this entire time trying to stay invisible; the prince seemed to shrink under everyone's gaze, and he wished there was a shell he could hide in.
"You will go to the Iron Islands to negotiate with Lord Dalton Greyjoy, won't you? Keep him and the Ironborn in line and help them to attack the Westerlands and Riverlands in my name?"
Maelor, feeling the weight of the treasonous oath he had sworn before this audience a few hours ago, nodded slightly and uttered a meek "Yes." Jaehaerys smiled and nodded. "Good."
"But what of Princess Alyssa and her dragon in the North?" This question came from Osmund Costayne. Aemond Targaryen considered the heir of Three Towers question and stared at the map of Westeros. He pointed at Blazewater Bay and the Saltspear River that fed into it up in the North.
"The Ironborn can raid the North through here," said Aemond while still pointing at the Saltspear. A chorus of "They could" rose from those assembled.
"Ser Criston Cole is up at the Wall along with the Silent Five and the two Wylde's who were exiled there twenty years ago." Aemond added. "Perhaps they can be of use to us?"
Jaehaerys's eyebrows rose in interest. Those eight men could prove useful. The discussions wore on well into early evening, and Jaehaerys was exhausted by the time the council had adjourned. But he was not exhausted enough to not go and see his wife. The king, with Ser Naeryon in tow, ventured to the queen's room, and were gone from the hall outside of Lord Hightower's solar just as a maester arrived with Rhaenyra's letter.
Jaehaerys did not knock when he opened the door to Jaehaera's bedchamber; Edmund stayed outside to give the couple privacy. The windows were open to allow the salty breeze and fading sunlight into the room, but Jaehaera was not enjoying any of that. She was hidden underneath a wrinkled, messy pile of sheets and blankets on a canopy bed, and Jaehaerys knew that because both of Jaehaera's feet were sticking out from under the linens. The king sighed and made his way over to Jaehaera's bedside. Sitting himself down beside his wife, Jaehaerys gingerly pulled the linens off his wife's head.
The queen's hair was tangled in a silver-gold mess, and her eyes were puffy from crying. Affections both brotherly and husbandly stirred within Jaehaerys II, and he sweetly brushed some hair out of Jaehaera's face and over her ear. Feeling someone touch her face roused Jaehaera from her sleep, and her red tinted purple eyes met her twin-husband's.
"Jaehaerys?"
"Hello, Jaehaera." The king traced his wife's hairline with his fingertips. "I have returned from the Arbor and created my own small council and Kingsguard and named Aegon as my heir. I wish you were there to see it."
Jaehaera's apathetic countenance remained unchanged. Her husband sighed.
"I know you are hurting, Jaehaera. Maelor and I are both in mourning over mother's death, and my heart goes out to Lady Celtigar's family. She was such a dear friend of ours. It hurts me greatly that both she and mother are no longer with us..."
Jaehaera said nothing, but she reached up to grab her twin brother-king's hand to give it a comforting sisterly and wifely squeeze, an act that Jaehaerys returned. How long had it been since the twins were affectionate with each other? The queen kissed her husband's hand and up his forearm. Jaehaera's yearning inspired her to rise and push the blanket and sheets off her body. Jaehaerys was aroused by Jaehaera's affections, but his arousal subsided when he smelled the rank and musty odor of urine after the blanket fell off.
Jaehaera had not been applying her perfume regularly to conceal the odor of her incontinence. The king's face wrinkled with disgust before he could even resist the urge to do so. Jaehaera froze just as she was eye-level with her husband. "What's wrong?"
"Your smell." Jaehaerys rose from the bed with his twin-wife still holding onto him. "I cannot bed you when you smell like that. Put some perfume on."
Jaehaera's grip on her twin-husband tightened. "I can't help it, Jaehaerys. Please touch me, hold me, lay with me. We can make another son together so that you can have a spare!"
Desperation clung to Jaehaera's words and were heartbreaking for any sensitive soul to hear. But Jaehaerys wasn't sensitive, and whatever affection he had for Jaehaera evaporated and was replaced with disgust and contempt.
"I thought you didn't want to get pregnant again after you had Aeva, Jaehaera. Besides, Maester Urban warned that a fourth pregnancy could kill you."
"I know, I know! I just want you to love me again..."
An annoyed Jaehaerys tore his arm out from Jaehaera's grasp, and he stood and walked away from the bed towards an open window. Breathing in the fresh air did nothing to ease his irritation, which only worsened when he heard his wife start weeping.
"Gods, women are so maudlin!" Jaehaerys thought as he watched the Sunset Sea. Nothing was said for a few minutes before Jaehaera finally composed herself to speak again. She sounded more subdued than desperate this time.
"Do I have a place on your small council? Am I still the Mistress of Whisperers?"
"No," was the cold, hard answer to both of Jaehaera's questions. "Alys will be serving me in that capacity. You are to serve me as my queen and as the mother of our children. Nothing more."
"Nothing more? Nothing more?!" Jaehaera's subdued tone rose in anger. She crawled out of bed to confront her husband. Whatever desire she had for Jaehaerys had been snuffed out like a candle flame, and the void in her heart was filling with rage.
"I stole Blackfyre for you. I risked my life and our children's lives for you. Mother and Maester Urban paid the price of treason for you!"
"I know that, Jaehaera!" shouted the king as he turned from the window to confront his wife. "Their deaths will hang over my head for the rest of my days, and I am truly sorry that mother, Urban, and Thea are all gone. But I can't change that, and I will not change my mind about replacing you with Alys as my Mistress of Whisperers. I appreciate all that you have done for me, Jaehaera, but now I want you to simply be my wife."
"Ha!" Jaehaera barked. "A wife you won't even touch because of how she smells. We haven't shared a bed in almost ten years since Aeva was born. You have never looked at me twice even when I put on perfume.
All your kisses and embraces go to your whore Falena!"
"At least she doesn't smell like one!" Jaehaerys shot back, stunning his wife. "Falena pleases me, she knows her place, and she has given me a spare." The king glared at the still stunned and hurt Jaehaera. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Jaehaerys delivered the coup de grace of his diatribe.
"I have been thinking about this ever since we were crowned at the Starry Sept, Jaehaera. When I take the Iron Throne, I will marry Lady Falena Stokeworth."
"What?" Jaehaera said, her voice subdued again and quiet. Jaehaerys II was unmoved.
"You heard me. I will become a bigamist like Aegon the Conqueror. You, Jaehaera, will be my Visenya, and Falena will be my Rhaenys. Maegon and Maegelle will become a prince and princess and be raised alongside our Aegon and Aeva-"
Jaehaera rushed towards her twin-husband without warning at a speed that Jaehaerys did not think she was capable of. The queen's hands grabbed her husband's doublet and pushed him towards the open window.
"Jaehaera?!" gasped a horrified Jaehaerys. Any other words the king wanted to say died in his throat when Jaehaera pushed his upper torso out through the window. "Jaehaera!" Jaehaerys repeated in fright.
He looked into his twin-wife's face and was frightened by what he saw. Jaehaera's eyes were black and seething with a murderous fury. The queen's teeth were bared but when she did close her lips, a hard scowl was set on her face. It was a look of pure evil, murderous evil. Jaehaera's frightening expression could have rivaled that of Maegor the Cruel's if that was not indeed what he looked like when he was in his wroth.
Terrified for his life, Jaehaerys said the first thing that came to him. "Jaehaera, think of our children! Our children! Don't do this to them! Don't kill me! Please!"
Mentioning Aegon and Aeva seemed bring Jaehaera back to her senses somewhat, and she slowly drew Jaehaerys back from the window. Jaehaerys extricated himself from his wife as soon as he was pulled back into the room, and he stumbled backward into a wardrobe. Jaehaera stood motionless by the window glaring hatefully at her husband with those same dark, murderous eyes. Without taking her eyes off her husband, Jaehaera made her way towards him like some terrible wraith coming to seek vengeance from beyond the grave. Jaehaerys unpeeled himself from the wardrobe and backed away from his queen as she followed him around the room.
"You son of a bitch..." Jaehaera growled. "You can humiliate me all you want, but I'll be damned if you humiliate our children!" Jaehaerys bumped into a table and Jaehaera caught him by the throat with one hand. "Aegon and Aeva do not deserve the shame of having their father's whore as their stepmother and their bastard half-brother and half-sister being treated as their equals. Marry that slut, Jaehaerys, and I will slit her and her bastards' throats from ear to fucking ear myself!"
"You are mad, Jaehaera! Mad!"
Jaehaerys pried his wife's hand off his throat and he ran for the door. Jaehaera did not follow him. The king fled from the hall with a concerned and curious Ser Naeryon following after him. Jaehaera stood motionless by the table for a few minutes after her husband escaped her grasp. Numbness replaced Jaehaera's black rage, and she turned and walked towards the same window she had tried to push Jaehaerys out of only moments before to watch the sunset.
Lost in thought, Jaehaera raised her hands and looked them over before returning to bed, cackling at the memory of her husband's fear.
Quite a lot happening in this chapter. The next chapters will involve the Battles of Horn Hill and Highgarden, and maybe, I hope, a meeting between Prince Maelor Targaryen and Lord Dalton Greyjoy "the Red Kraken". Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and stay tuned in for more in the future! :)